


This Time Tomorrow

by fragmentedreality



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Canon Compliant, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I love these boys to death but this HURTS, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Multi, POV Sirius Black, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:00:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28635897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragmentedreality/pseuds/fragmentedreality
Summary: At only eleven years old, Sirius Black had come to the realisation that the world was a cruel place.___The Marauders throughout their time at Hogwarts and beyond, told from Sirius' POV, in case you felt you needed any more pain.This will be a Wolfstar (Sirius/Remus) fic, but when I say slow burn, I mean SLOW BURN.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	1. In The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so I've been wanting to write a slow burn wolfstar fic for a long while and so here I finally am. 
> 
> The chapters will get notably longer after the first few, and probably longer still when we reach some of the later years when we really get into the depths of story. As of right now, it's just laying down the foundations.  
> I also kind of what this to act as a character study for the Marauders, or more specifically Sirius and Remus, because I think there are some many complexities to their characters that are so interesting and important, we aren't just going with the classic 'shy soft boy' Remus here because I think there's more to him than that. It'll take a while for you to really see the character's true natures show through.
> 
> But we're in it for the long haul here, so I hope you stick around!
> 
> The name of the fic is taken from the song: This Time Tomorrow by The Kinks

* * *

_**I N T H E B E G I N N I N G** _

* * *

At only eleven years old, Sirius Black had come to the realisation that the world was a cruel place. 

It was a realisation which, while hardly pleasant, would serve him well in life. Most people have the fortune of avoiding it until at least their teenage years - brought on by heartbreak, loss, or perhaps just the simple revelation that butterbeer and firewhiskey should _not_ be mixed - but Sirius didn't have the liberties of ignorance. In fact, he’d probably drawn that conclusion many years earlier, sometime between the day he accidentally froze all the water pipes in Grimmauld Place when he was seven, and the time he said that blood purity _‘sounded like a load of bollocks’_ at a Malfoy ball the following summer. On both occasions he had been, as his mother would say, properly reprimanded. 

  
  


The crowds at King’s Cross that day were truly something to behold - crying children, worried parents, the young boy chasing an escaped cat the length of the platform. A large tawny owl swooped down from the rafters, landing a few feet away on a precariously stacked pile of luggage that, had it not been for magic, would have been in imminent danger of falling over. He’d never quite understood how the muggles were yet to discover the annual chaos that erupted on platform nine-and-three-quarters; wizards aren’t exactly known for their subtlety. 

  
  


_“Stand up straight Sirius,”_ a harsh whisper came from his left, “for heaven’s sake you’re a Black, act as such.”

  
  


He took that as an invitation to slouch as much as he could manage, hunching his shoulders uncomfortably with his hands shoved in his pockets. He remained that way, however, for only a few passing seconds as he promptly received a sharp clip over the ear which set his posture right. 

  
  


Sirius had heard the phrase _‘don’t judge a book by it’s cover’_ thrown about a few times in his life, but he always thought that logic seemed to wither away in the presence of his mother. She was a stern looking woman, with angular features and a frown which Sirius had only ever seen leave her face to be replaced with an equally unpleasant expression like disapproval or disgust. In some ways, she could have been beautiful, had her eyes held any amount of kindness. 

  
  


The line between her eyebrows deepened and her eyes, cold and steely blue, focused on a spot just over his shoulder. He turned, following her line of sight, until his eyes landed on a small, slightly lanky looking boy with a thick mess of brown hair and peculiar round glasses. He was being pulled into a hug by both of his parents, his head tilted back in careless laughter as his mother pulled a small pink handkerchief from her coat pocket, dabbing gently at her eyes. 

  
  


They looked so, his brain struggled to find the word, _happy_. 

  
  


Sirius felt an uncomfortable, and largely unfamiliar, feeling grow in his chest as he looked between the cold, stony gaze of his own mother and the family embracing joyfully on the platform. 

  
  


“Who are they?” he mumbled, quieter than usual. 

  
  


“Blood-traitors,” she replied sourly, “stay away from them.”

  
  


Her warnings only made him want to befriend the boy more; he’d always been drawn to things he was told he wasn’t allowed. Part of him wanted to know more about the family but he knew he wouldn’t get any more out of her on the matter, and pressing would only make her angry, so he wisely chose to stay silent. 

  
  


“Now,” she started, passing him a sizable leather case with the Black family crest embossed on the front, “all your supplies are in there, once you’re sorted into Slytherin you will write your father and I a letter, conduct yourself properly at _all_ times, listen to your cousins and _for the love of Merlin_ , do our family proud.”

  
  


Sirius wasn’t exactly sure what that entailed but he did know that when he found out, he’d make every effort to do exactly the opposite. She leaned down to kiss him on the forehead, a formality rather than any display of actual affection, and took a step back, disappearing into thin air with a loud _snap_.

  
  


And so there he stood, entirely alone in the centre of a crowded station, life swarming around him - children running, mothers fretting, teenagers smiling - and he relished in the disarray momentarily, only to be dragged back to reality by a bellowing voice that stated, _“TRAIN LEAVES IN FIVE MINUTES.”_

  
  


With a gentle sigh, he picked up his case and walked a few paces, eventually boarding at the nearest empty door. He was supposed to find his family and the rest of the purebloods, from what he’d gathered they tended to commandeer their own carriage, but he had little desire to do so and instead decided to hunt down the boy from the platform. 

  
  


The train was arguably even more chaotic than the station. Numerous students - some his age, others older - were pressed against the glass, waving frantically at parents who clearly cared that they weren’t going to see their children for months. Thankfully, this left the hallway relatively quiet, save for the few people who had decided to board last minute. 

  
  


A long-awaited screech sounded throughout Kings Cross at eleven o’clock sharp. Well, on platform nine-and-three-quarters at least, for the muggles were still none the wiser. As the train started to pull away from the station, it jolted suddenly and Sirius stumbled backwards into something firm.

  
  


He groaned; so did it. 

  
  


“I’m _so_ sorry,” the young girl gasped and, from the look of utter regret on her face, he truly believed she meant it, “I should’ve been paying more attention.” 

  
  


She looked at him, doe-eyed and sort of hopeful, and he broke out into a smile. She had a kind face which put Sirius slightly at ease, and a mass of red hair that turned to gold in the sunlight that filtered through the carriage window. Just as he was about to reject her apology and emphasise that _he_ was the one that caused the entire incident, another boy made his presence known.

  
  


_“Watch where you’re going,”_ he said with a notable sneer, pushing a limp strand of black hair from his face. He was clearly trying his hardest to look intimidating but to Sirius, who had been bestowed with the severe misfortune of having Walburga Black as a mother, he was actually kind of amusing. A string of sharp-tongued insults filtered through his mind but the girl spoke up again before he had a chance to pick one.

  
  


“It’s _fine_ Sev,” she chastised, sending Sirius an apologetic look, “don’t be so rude.”

  
  


The redhead took the boy's arm before he could say anything else, and began to lead him to a nearby compartment, only turning back to shout, “nice to meet you,” over her shoulder to which Sirius just grinned and _finally_ apologised for nearly bowling her over five minutes prior. 

  
  


The closer he got towards the back of the train, the more frustrated he got. He swore blind there were only nine coaches when he counted them back on the station, but he’d walked through at least sixteen by this point and there still seemed to be more to go. He was close to giving up, ready to take the next empty compartment he came across, when he noticed two boys sitting alone a few doors down. They appeared to be sitting in silence, which was a little dull if you asked Sirius, so he decided that he was going to be their entertainment for the journey.

  
  


_“Ah finally,”_ he exclaimed brightly, sliding open the compartment door with relative ease, “I’ve been looking for you.”

  
  


He extended his hand in greeting, it was a gesture more formal than most eleven year olds were used to but Sirius didn’t know any better. The boy with the glasses grasped his hand, somewhat skeptical at first, and shook it briefly but firmly with an eyebrow raised, “sorry, do I know you?”

  
  


“Not yet,” Sirius laughed, “but my mother told me to avoid you, so I went through half the bloody carriages trying to find you - I swear this train is nearly a mile long.”

  
  


He seemed to consider this statement momentarily, before tilting his head with a clear shrug of his shoulders. His face broke out into a smile warmer than any Sirius had ever seen before - though with his family, that was hardly an achievement - as he gestured towards the empty seat opposite, “cool, I’m James,” he said, satisfied with that answer, and turned his gaze to the boy who was still staring out the window, having ignored Sirius’ entrance entirely, “and this is Remus.”

  
  


At the mention of his name, he turned around, taking a bite of a chocolate bar that Sirius was not familiar with, and nodded at both boys with an air of disinterest before looking back to the window, head resting against the glass. 

  
  


_Well he seems like a barrel of laughs_ , Sirius thought sardonically, but he couldn’t help but notice the muggle clothes and the now discarded chocolate wrapper that he had tucked in his pocket. Concluding that the boy was most likely muggleborn - or a half-blood at the very least - he decided, at that exact moment, that they were all going to be friends. He’d make sure of it. Suitably satisfied that this would piss his mother off to an acceptable degree, he turned his attention to the next most pressing matter: his stomach.

  
  


“Sirius Black,” he announced proudly, taking the offered seat, “now does anyone know when the trolley comes around? I’m bloody _starving_.”

  
  


James’ eyes widened slightly upon hearing his surname but, to his credit, the expression only remained in place for a split second before he smoothed his features; Sirius appreciated that. 

  


“Can’t come soon enough,” he grinned.


	2. Ad Meliora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius decided that he liked making people smile, he vowed to try and do it more often.

* * *

**_A D M E L I O R A_ **

* * *

_“Ugh,”_ Sirius groaned, clutching his stomach as he draped himself over the edge of the little wooden boat, making it rock precariously, “we should’ve stopped at the cauldron cakes.”

  
  


James, who was seemingly at similar level of discomfort, snorted loudly, “god, no, _please_ don’t make me laugh,” he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the biting chill of the September air fill his lungs, “we should have stopped a _long_ time before the cauldron cakes, I think it was the fizzing whizbees that did it for me.”

  
  


“Ohhh the whizbees,” he laughed, trailing his hand across the surface of the water, “I don’t think I’ve ever _seen_ anyone eat so many at once, you were floating for a solid five minutes.”

  
  


“It was a _mistake_.”

  
  


_“It was bloody brilliant.”_

  
  


Remus, who Sirius still hadn’t heard speak so much as a single word, was watching the pair from the other end of the boat with a look of mild amusement. He couldn’t quite understand why the boy barely spoke - he didn’t look particularly shy, more disinterested if anything - and Sirius had _tried_ to make conversation on multiple occasions so he was beginning to think it was rather rude. Apparently James had managed to get his name out of him when they first boarded the train, but he said even that was like drawing blood from a stone.

  
  


Ironically, Remus was the next to speak, _“here,”_ he sighed, looking somewhat frustrated, “drink this,” he pulled a small vial from the inside of his robes, extending it towards them. The liquid was slightly murky, with a somewhat pinkish tinge that seemed to glow gently in the moonlight.

  
  


_“IT SPEAKS,”_ Sirius proclaimed loudly, mouth drawn into a wide grin. Remus scowled, whipping the potion out of reach as he let his head drop down and his body turn to the left.

  
  


Sirius felt a shove at his shoulder and the jolt sent his stomach into another somersault; he was now convinced he was going to throw up before the boat journey was over and groaned accordingly. He looked at James who was trying to wildly insinuate, through the repeated widening of his eyes and the raising of his brows, that he should’ve been politer to Remus. That’s what he gathered at least, if you asked him, Sirius would have just said that James looked like a bloody nutter.

  
  


“Um, sorry,” James began, trying to be the diplomat, “I don’t think he meant to be rude, and thank you for the potion, well the offer at least, we really appreciate it.”

  
  


Sirius nodded earnestly, largely because he didn’t know what else to do.

  
  


The boy sighed, mostly out of exasperation, and turned back toward them, offering up the potion again in an open palm. James smiled at him warmly and then looked to Sirius, who was definitely in the worse state of the two, to offer him the potion first. He took it gratefully, removing the stopper with a gentle _pop_ and raising it to his nose to smell it. It didn't have much of a scent, if anything perhaps slightly sweet like watered down sugar quills.

  
  


“Don't you trust me,” he asked, his left eyebrow raised again.

  
  


“Could be poison.”

  
  


“And what reason would I have to do that?”

  
  


Sirius thought for a moment, “I’m pretty sure I could recall at least three occasions that you wanted to kill me on the journey here.”

  
  


He snorted, clearly agreeing with that statement, “granted.”

  
  


The boy smiled, just for a few moments, but the same pleasant feeling rose in his chest that he’d experienced when he made James laugh for the first time on the train. Sirius decided he liked making people smile, he vowed to try and do it more.

  
  


He knocked back half the vial and the relief was almost instantaneous, “Merlin, that’s so much better, thank you,” he said to Remus before passing the remainder over to James who was still looking rather green.

  
  


The rest of the boat ride was considerably more pleasant after they’d taken some of the draught and the nausea had largely subsided. As they drew closer, talk soon turned to the sorting ceremony. Remus unsurprisingly had nothing to say on the matter, James was _adamant_ he was going to be in Gryffindor and Sirius knew that if he wasn’t placed in Slytherin, there would be one less Black making it to their seventeenth birthday. 

  
  


It wasn't something he’d ever particularly worried about - he was pretty sure he’d be sorted into Slytherin, he was a Black of course, the surname alone should do it - but as they approached the Great Hall, he felt a twist of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. It was one thing making a few friends his mother wouldn’t approve of, but if he wasn’t in Slytherin he’d bring shame down upon the entire family as far as she was concerned.

  
  


He heard the gasps of wonder from his fellow first years as the doors finally opened but he didn’t even look up. Instead, his attention turned to his cousins who were seated at the Slytherin table, giving him somewhat disapproving looks. He probably should have sat with them on the train but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. 

  
  


The witch who had escorted them into the hall, who Sirius knew to be Professor Mcgonagall, patted down her emerald velveteen robes and withdrew a sizable scroll, unfolding it a few inches to read the first name.

  
  


_“Polly Anderson.”_

  
  


A small girl with long dark hair shuffled forwards, walking up the steps with a surprising amount of confidence for the first child to be called. The hat sprung to life the second it was placed on her head and only remained there for a few seconds before calling, _“HUFFLEPUFF,”_ and one of the tables erupted into cheers. 

  
  


Only two more students were called up - a rather teary-eyed Ravenclaw, and another Hufflepuff - before the moment he had been dreading finally arrived.

  
  


_“Sirius Black.”_

  
  


His stomach dropped; there were cheers from the Slytherin table. 

  
  


Gathering what little courage he could muster, he closed his eyes and counted to three to compose himself and strode up the steps. He hoped the smile he plastered on didn’t look as fake as it felt.

  
  


“Another Black,” the hat hummed in a voice that was almost taunting, “now you _are_ interesting - not at all what I expected.”

  
  


He took in a shaky breath.

  
  


_Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin._

  
  


“You’re smart, yes, and loyal, but neither Hufflepuff nor Ravenclaw are where you’ll thrive.”

  
  


He scrunched his eyes shut, acutely aware of the fact that he held the attention of every person in the room against his will. 

  
  


“You’d do well in Slytherin, there’s ambition there and wit,” _yes, yes please,_ it paused for a few more seconds and Sirius would’ve _swore blind_ it was doing it on purpose, “but no, it has to be _GRYFFINDOR_.”

  
  


Sirius had never quite understood the saying ‘the silence was deafening’ but at that exact moment it struck him over the head with surprising clarity. 

  
  


You could hear a pin drop.

  
  


After a couple of seconds, though to him it felt like minutes, the applause started to filter in - first from the Gryffindor table, then Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw - but he remained frozen to his seat. The Slytherin table stayed eerily quiet and he didn't dare look over; he wasn’t quite ready to see his family’s reactions, particularly Bellatrix. 

  
  


“It - it must be wrong,” his words were spoken ever so softly, “it has to be.”

  
  


“I’m sorry Mr Black, you need to take your seat,” Mcgonagall placed a hand on his shoulder and offered him a gentle smile, it was kind and almost motherly, “one day you’ll truly be grateful for this.”

He finally found the sense to remove himself from the chair, walking down to the Gryffindor table in a slight daze to take his seat. One of the older boys, who said his name was Frank, offered him a warm welcome to the house but Sirius couldn’t bring himself to form much of a response. 

  
  


He didn’t pay much attention to the sorting after that. The only small bit of salvation came was when James and Remus, whose surname turned out to be Lupin which Sirius thought sounded quite cool, were both sorted into the same house as him. Likewise, the girl with the fiery red hair - along with four other girls and a rather sickly looking boy called Peter who seemed to be incredibly surprised by his sorting - took a seat at the same table. 

  
  


He had to admit, the feast looked spectacular. There were mountains of crispy roast potatoes, what seemed like gallons of gravy, more vegetables than he even knew existed, and a tower of yorkshire puddings that were almost eye level with most of the first years. James and Sirius looked at the mounds of food then to each other, both regretting the amount they’d eaten on the train once more. The regret only grew once dessert arrived though Sirius did manage to scarf down a helping of cornflake tart since it was his absolute favourite unlike James who only managed two meagre mouthfuls of apple crumble.

  
  


Frank Longbottom, as he introduced himself after the food had disappeared, was the prefect tasked with leading them up to the common room. He seemed quite nice; he waved at the portraits as they passed by, made sure nobody missed the disappearing step and attempted some sort of complicated explanation of the changing staircase patterns but that went straight over Sirius’ head. He noticed that Remus seemed to be keenly paying attention though so, as he assumed they’d be walking to classes together, he thought he’d be just fine.

  
  


The entrance to the common room was a portrait of a plump lady with short dark hair who seemed to be significantly more confident about her singing abilities than Sirius thought she ought to be. It took Frank at least five minutes to stop her from talking for long enough to get a word in edgeways; she seemed to like doting on the first years. Apparently the password changed on a monthly basis, which seemed unnecessary as he was sure people from other houses would find out quickly enough, but for September it was _ad meliora_. 

  
  


_“Ad meliora?”_ James questioned as they filed through the opening behind the portrait in pairs. 

  
  


“Toward better things,” Sirius and Remus responded simultaneously.

  
  


“It’s latin,” Sirius added.

  
  


The tour of the common room itself was brief, there wasn’t much to say. It was smaller than he was expecting, with a roaring fire and plushy red sofas that looked like they hadn’t been replaced in decades. He thought about how his cousins had described the Slytherin dungeons - all black marble and leather sofas - and decided that this looked much nicer. Though he did think that the windows that looked out onto the bottom of the Black Lake sounded pretty cool. 

  
  


His nerves still hadn’t entirely settled since the sorting so he didn’t pay that much attention to Frank’s common room tour, though it was more of a talk since there wasn't exactly space for them to walk around. He was relieved when they were finally led up to their dormitory and were left alone to unpack their belongings. There were only four of them in the first year boys dorm; he thought that was a nice number, not-overcrowded but enough for a good group of friends. Well, he was hoping they’d end up his friends at least. He liked James so far, they already got on pretty well and Peter seemed nice enough, albeit a bit timid. Remus was the one he was less sure of, he seemed almost hostile towards them all and Sirius didn’t think they’d done anything particularly deserving. 

  
  


The dorm was a relatively small room, with four identical four poster beds, all complete with deep red draping. Sirius could see his belongings piled up at the foot of the bed on the far right and made his way over to them. He clicked the two locks on his trunk, lifting the lid to reveal three sets of perfectly pressed Hogwarts uniform, complete with a green trim and tie.

  
  


“Your folks really were keen on the whole Slytherin thing huh,” James said from his vantage point on the bed opposite, offering him a slightly apologetic shrug, and Sirius just nodded as he shoved the trunk under his bed. He wasn’t in the mood to unpack now. He told himself he’d do it in the next few days but that would most likely turn into weeks.

  
  


“I couldn’t imagine actually wanting to be in Slytherin,” Peter mused, not really reading the room, “imagine living in a _dungeon_.”

  
  


“It’s alright for some,” he groaned, collapsing back onto his bed, “not being in Slytherin is one thing, but _Gryffindor?_ They’ll have my guts for garters.”

  
  


James was in the process of trying to fix Peter one of those weird stern looks he’d given Sirius on the boat earlier but he seemed entirely oblivious to the fact. Sirius, who generally saw the humour in most situations, hadn’t been offended - if anything he found it amusing. Peter opened his mouth to say something else but James eventually resorted to kicking him in the shin and that seemed to have the desired effect.

  
  


“You’re being dramatic,” Remus added. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be on the receiving end of one of those James Potter stares quite soon. 

  
  


“Oh trust me I am _not_ ,” he chortled, “enjoy my presence while you can boys, my funeral will be next week, you’re all invited.”

  
  


The crease between James’ eyebrows slowly melted away as his frown morphed into a grin. He was clearly starting to clock onto the fact that Sirius would rather laugh about his misfortune than despair, “will I need a new outfit?”

  
  


“Make it Gryffindor attire, they’ll hate that,” he laughed, sitting up on his bed so he could face him, “stage a coup d’etat in my name.”

  
  


“A _what?”_

  
  


“You speak posh,” Peter noted and Sirius, who didn’t see any point in correcting his grammar, just laughed. 

  
  


“You would too if you had my parents.” 

  
  


“It’s a political overhaul,” Remus said and the three turned to look at him, “French.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I managed to find time to write another chapter so I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> It's still at that stage of setting up the characters so hopefully we'll get more into the story soon.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Crushed Snake Fangs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They only managed to work harmoniously, though perhaps that term is a little optimistic, for around five more minutes before Severus insisted on being a prat again.

* * *

_**C R U S H E D S N A K E F A N G S** _

* * *

“Mr Black,” McGonagall’s voice cut through the noise of the corridor, stopping him in his tracks, “do you care to explain to me why you are wearing a  _ brown  _ tie?”

  
  


Sirius personally would have said it was more of a russet colour if you’d asked for his opinion on the matter but he didn’t think it was wise to argue. He’d been wearing the tie for three days now and it was the first time anyone had bothered to point it out. 

  
  


“My mother packed all Slytherin robes since, well you know,” he looked down as he shuffled his feet on the spot, “James tried to turn them red on the first night for me, some spell he’d read in a textbook but it didn’t exactly go as planned.”

  
  


“Not the intended outcome I see,” she pressed the tip of her wand to his tie and it burst into colour, settling on a rich red tone with thin yellow stripes, “well five points to Mr Potter for a valiant effort, that’s second year magic, but dare I say I’d have given him ten if it was as successful as he’d hoped.”

  
  


“He managed to get the crest the right colour,” he pointed out, now feeling quite proud of his friend.

  
  


She looked at the little red and gold snake on his robes with a smile, raising her wand once more. As she tapped the embroidered crest, a lion jumped into the frame and a small battle ensued between the two with the lion eventually reigning victorious. He watched in amusement as it swallowed the snake whole, taking its rightful place on Sirius’ left lapel. 

  
  


“Ten points it is then,” she smiled, “now, off to your lessons before I start getting complaints from Professor Slughorn about my students being tardy.”

  
  


As he watched her retreat down the hallway, robes billowing behind her, Sirius decided that he liked Professor McGonagall. He also decided that if he spent another moment standing there he  _ really  _ would be late for potions which wouldn’t be a good start to the year. 

  
  


This was set to be his first potions lesson at Hogwarts and he’d be lying if he said he was looking forward to it - he didn’t fancy spending two hours with the head of Slytherin. Especially considering he’d sent him a letter over the summer to welcome him to the school and tell him how excited he was to be his head of house. That letter didn’t exactly age well. 

  
  


So far that week he’d had two charms lessons which he’d really enjoyed but that was largely down to the fact that, in an attempt to levitate different pieces of fruit, Peter managed to blow up an entire melon. Sirius couldn’t understand why Professor Flitwick didn’t find it as hilarious as he did. Remus didn’t quite see the humour in it either but that was probably because he was sitting a few seats closer to the incident and was picking melon seeds out of his hair for the rest of the day.

  
  


Transfiguration was notably less fun as McGonagall seemed to be more keen on the theory than the actual magic. He also couldn’t say he was overjoyed that she’d already set them a two foot essay to complete on the merits of correct wand maneuvers before they’d even had the chance to cast a single spell. 

  
  


Flying was certainly enjoyable, save for the fact that he and James had nearly earned themselves their first detention for racing each other to the top of the Ravenclaw tower before the lesson started. It didn’t help their case that Madam Hooch had arrived at the exact moment Sirius decided it would be funny to try and hang upside down from the large bronze eagle statue on the roof. She must’ve seen some merit in the ordeal though because, after a good scolding, she kept them back after class to tell them that they should both try out for the quidditch team next year. 

  
  


History of magic was the only other lesson he’d had so far and  _ Merlin  _ he wished he hadn’t - it was mind-numbing. He wanted to blow up melons and scale the Ravenclaw tower, not recall the exact dates of every goblin rebellion on record or evaluate the known implications of the soap blizzard of 1378. No wonder the only professor teaching the subject was a ghost, he was pretty sure that the death certificate of Cuthbert Binns would state: death by boredom. 

  
• ★ •

  
  


James, Remus and Peter were all waiting for him in the dungeons by the portrait of the old victorian potions master, the one who shouts random trivia to any student who descends the east staircase. This time she seemed to be rambling about the many uses of bubotuber pus which would probably be of some use to him but he didn’t really care enough to listen. Sirius had told them not to hang around on his behalf, it was his fault he’d forgotten his potions textbook afterall, but James had insisted and Sirius was quietly grateful that he had. 

  
  


“Ah Sirius, my boy,” Slughorn exclaimed as they entered the room, smacking him on the back with a little too much force, “I have to admit, the sorting was a surprise, I was looking forward to having you in my house - but I still expect great things nonetheless.”

  
  


“Of course professor.”

  
  


“Potter, Pettigrew and  _ ah  _ Lupin,” he said as he looked at the rest of their little group, “how's your father doing these days, haven’t seen him for a good few years now? And your mother, she’s a muggle isn’t she?”

  
  


“They’re both fine,” Remus said forcefully. He seemed even less willing to talk than usual which Sirius didn’t know was possible. He made a mental note to keep conversation away from his parents where possible. 

  
  


“Well that’s good, tell them I was asking after them,” he waved his hand with an air of dismissal, “anyways, so you can get a chance to know your classmates better I’ve paired you all up, go find your names on the desk.”

  
  


Sirius groaned audibly once Slughorn had moved on to greet the other students entering the classroom, he was really hoping he’d have just been able to pair up with James for the entire year but that was no longer looking likely. He was assigned to a bench near the back of the classroom and was pleased to find out that Remus was on the table behind him. Peter, who was paired with a rather brutish looking Slytherin boy, and James, who ended up with one of the Gryffindor girls, were unfortunately seated at the opposite side of the room. 

  
  


Eventually, as the room began to fill, the red-haired girl from the train strode across the classroom and took the seat next to him, with her limp-haired friend being assigned the chair next to Remus. She smiled at him sweetly, unloading numerous textbooks and pieces of parchment from her bag. 

  
  


“It’s Lily right?” he asked politely even though he already knew the answer, “I’m Sirius.” 

  
  


“Yes,” she smiled at him, “we’re in the same house and I still haven’t had a chance to speak to you since the train.”

  
  


Just as he was about to respond, Slughorn commanded silence from the classroom. He took his place by the front desk and, with a swift wave of his wand, his name started to inscribe itself onto the blackboard to his right.

  
  


“Now, nobody wants to sit and learn theory on their first lesson so, since we have a double,” he seemed more enthusiastic about that fact than most the students were, “we’ll get stuck into some actual practical work, the theory can be dealt with next week.”

  
  


A wave of excited murmurs washed across the classroom and Sirius felt slightly more optimistic about the next two hours that he had twenty minutes ago. Maybe something would get blown up after all; he could hope. 

“Now, can anyone tell me the base ingredient used in a cure for boils - not the most exciting potion I know, but it’s a simple one so it’s a good place to start.”

  
  


A few hands raised tentatively, except for Lily’s which shot up before he’d even finished talking. Slughorn consulted the seating plan he had scribbled down on a scroll in his hands before looking up towards their desk, “Miss Evans.”

  
  


“Crushed snake fangs,” she said proudly, looking at Severus for approval. 

  
  


“Correct, two points to Gryffindor,” he beamed and Sirius realised she’d made it straight into his good books. He certainly seemed like the type of teacher to have favourites so he thought he should probably try and make sure he was one of them, maybe then Slughorn wouldn’t bother him as much. 

  
  


“And how long do we leave it to brew for?”

  
  


Only he, Lily and Severus raised their hands. 

  
  


“Ah, Mr Black.” 

  
  


Sirius knew he would be chosen, “between 33 and 45 minutes, it’s better left for too little than too long though, gets a little acidic otherwise.”

  
  


He’d never been particularly inclined towards potions, he personally found wandwork more interesting, but he was made to learn the entire contents of most of the first year reading list when he was eight. His father always said that academic success was an important part of the Black family legacy so he was expected to excel in school.

  
  


“ _ Excellent _ , five points for the extra detail,” he clapped his hands together, “come on Slytherin, you’re letting our side down, we can’t let Gryffindor have all the glory.” 

  
  


At first, the lesson proceeded as it should. Once Slughorn had finished talking, the students began to work their way through the stages of the recipe - crushing snake fangs, dicing horned slugs and arguing about which way is clockwise. 

  
  


After about twenty minutes however, Severus chose to make a rather unnecessary comment that seemed to set the tone for the rest of the lesson.

  
  


“What kind of a name is  _ Remus _ ?” he said, eyes on the inside cover of the Gryffindor’s potions textbook. 

  
  


Sirius wasn’t about to let that slide.

  
  


“See I thought that at first,” his voice dripped with sarcasm as he turned to face the desk behind them, “but then I found out your name was Severus and,  _ well _ , that put everything into perspective didn’t it.”

  
  


Remus snorted loudly, ignoring the fact that the jibe was mildly backhanded, and Sirius felt triumphant. 

  
  


“Stop being mean,” Lily chastised, trying to stir the potion carefully at the same time, “ _ both _ of you.”

  
  


She looked at Severus pointedly who at least had the grace to look vaguely guilty. All four of them knew that was solely on the basis that he didn’t want to upset Lily, the girl seemed to have him wrapped around her little finger. Fortunately, the same couldn’t be said for Sirius so he felt no need to look apologetic for his comments, he’d stand his ground if he needed to.

  
  


They only managed to work harmoniously, though perhaps that term is a little optimistic, for around five more minutes before Severus insisted on being a prat again, “ _ no, _ we add the horned slugs at _ thirty three _ minutes, it’s only been twenty nine, are you  _ completely  _ incompetent?”

  
  


Sirius turned around to make another snide comment that he hadn’t even thought of yet - they tended to just fall out of his mouth with little warning - but paused when Remus gave him a slight shake of his head. He watched Remus withdraw his wand - Lily and Severus were both too engrossed in their cauldrons to pay any mind to him - and give it a swift flick, making sure to keep it out of sight. A small glass bottle flew off one of the shelves behind them, making a beeline toward his hand. 

  
  


Sirius, who was really quite curious at this point, watched out of the corner of his eye as Remus unscrewed the cap, tapping a small amount of white powder into the palm of his hand before sending the bottle flying back to its rightful place on the shelf. With Severus still none the wiser, he quickly sprinkled the powder over the plate of horned slugs and looked up to meet Sirius’ gaze, mouthing  _ ‘watch’ _ .

  
  


About thirty seconds passed before Severus quite snidely remarked, “ _ now _ it's been thirty three minutes,  _ I’ll  _ add the slugs.”

  
  


“Sure,” Remus shrugged, nonchalant as ever, “remember to add them one by one though, it gets a little volatile if you add them all at once.”

  
  


Sirius thought that was the longest he’d ever heard him speak for but he was too eager to see the results of Remus’ tampering to give it much thought. He’d turned back to his own desk, so as not to raise any suspicions, but was watching closely in the reflection of the glass cabinet to their left, waiting for the perfect moment to redirect his attention. 

  
  


“I  _ know _ , I can read.”

  
  


To his credit, Severus did everything with the utmost precision. He clearly had a good understanding of potions but apparently so did Remus because, not ten seconds after the last slug had been added, the liquid began to bubble violently before going up in a cloud of green smoke.

  
  


Remus dived out of the way as soon as the potion started to react and Sirius followed suit, grabbing onto Lily’s arm and dragging her with him as she was still too focussed on their own cauldron to notice. 

  
  


Severus wasn’t quite so lucky. 

  
  


The explosion itself was relatively small, contained to the area where the four of them worked but it certainly still caught the attention of the rest of the classroom. Everyone stared in complete silence until the haze that surrounded Severus’ head began to clear; that was when the laughter started.

  
  


Sirius didn’t know which was the more pressing issue: the smattering of boils that now resided over every inch of visible skin or the fact that he looked about point five seconds away from having an aneurysm. 

  
  


So, being Sirius, he decided it was the perfect time to aggravate the situation even more by quite loudly remarking, “ _ see _ , Remus told you it was a bad idea to add all the horned slugs at once, makes it volatile.”

  
  


He watched Remus bite the inside of his cheek in an attempt to suppress a smile.

  
  


“Yes that’s quite true,” Slughorn said with a slight frown, surprisingly unfazed in the knowledge that one of his students had nearly blown himself up not thirty seconds prior, “oh well, nothing that a quick trip to the hospital wing can’t fix.”

  
  


Lily, who seemed quite upset over the whole ordeal, offered to take him to the hospital wing immediately. She glared at them both as she left, clearly of the opinion that they had something to do with it, but Sirius thought she was just overreacting. It was a bit of relatively harmless fun and she’d heard the comments he’d made about Remus so it was entirely warranted as far as he was concerned. 

  
  


The two boys were made to pair up for the remaining half-hour and so he deemed the entire incident to be doubly successful. Remus continued in relative silence, as he always did, save for the odd instruction or one word answer. Sirius had a hard time reading him - since he chose to stay so quiet and distant most of the time - but his respect for the boy had just grown immensely in light of the preceding events.

  
  


They were allowed to go five minutes early with five additional house points, having made what Slughorn considered to be a ‘quite perfect potion’ which was all down to Lily and Remus’ handiwork. They both waited outside for Peter and James who were both let out within minutes of each other, having both made an acceptable cure for boils in their pairs.

  
  


“You lot alright?” James asked as he walked over to them, “that Slytherin nearly got you blown up, good job dodging it.”

  
  


“Wasn’t the Slytherin that nearly sent us to the hospital wing though was it,” he looked over as Remus and, when James raised an eyebrow, he elaborated, “he was being a tosser, saying stuff to Remus.”

  
  


“He said I was incompetent at potions, I proved that I’m not.”

  
  


“Wait,  _ you _ , you did that,” he was pointing back towards the potions classroom, eyes wide behind his glasses. He stayed that way for a few seconds until Remus nodded casually, like he was being questioned about something entirely mundane, and James threw his head back in laughter, “that was absolutely  _ brilliant  _ mate.”

  
  


“Served him right too” Sirius added, “he was rude to me on the train as well.”

He hadn’t really thought much of it at the time, he was too busy trying to find James, but now that he’d decided he disliked the boy, he was now more irked about the encounter. 

  
  


“What's his name?” Peter, who had joined them only a few seconds after James, asked quite innocently, “Snivellus or something?”

  
  


The other three boys erupted into laughter, even Remus couldn’t hold it back which was something the boys hadn’t heard before. 

  
  


“Severus I think,” James replied once he’d composed himself.

  
  


“No, it's Snivellus now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, I hoped you like this chapter!
> 
> i'm excited for you all to get to know the characters better, especially remus since he's quite a complex one, it'll take a while for us to see what he's really like 
> 
> tell me what you think in the comments!


	4. A Victim of Circumstance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius would gladly bet five galleons, ten chocolate frogs and his entire collection of vintage quidditch annuals that they didn’t even know half the hexes he had in his arsenal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> | TW for mentions of abuse |

* * *

**_A V I C T I M O F C I R C U M S T A N C E_ **

* * *

By the end of his first week, Sirius had acquired: five house points, four pieces of thus far incomplete homework, three dirty looks from Bellatrix, two scratches from Marlene Mckinnon’s cat and a particularly nasty howler from his mother.

  
  


He didn’t know which he was most proud of.

  
  


Peter said it should probably be the house points but Sirius thought that they didn’t really count since he was  _ technically  _ on minus five after losing some for the unfortunate incident with Mandy Milkington’s toad. It was fine now, from what he’d heard at least, but she still wouldn’t go within six feet of him regardless of the fact that it was entirely accidental. He should probably be more careful where his behaviour was concerned; the last thing he needed was a letter sent to his parents.

  
  


The back of his neck began to itch; it often did when he thought about home. He let his hand slide under the mass of curls that sat on his shoulders, absentmindedly feeling around for the smattering of small scars that resided at the nape of his neck. They were raised white marks, no bigger than the tip of a wand which, incidentally, was what had caused them. He remembered how he’d earned every single one of them; things often slipped his mind, but these were seared into his memory for as long as he would live.

  
  


He wondered how many the other boys had, whether it was as many as he did. Somehow, he doubted it, not that they’d ever discussed it though. James talked about his parents like they were the kindest people he’d ever known, and Peter didn’t seem like the type to step out of line. Remus had never mentioned his parents, but he didn’t really talk much to begin with so that was hardly telling. He sighed, deciding that he needed a drink, and hauled himself out of bed to fill up his glass. 

  
  


According to the charmed alarm clock that sat on his bedside table, it was precisely three-fifty-two in the morning when he noticed that Remus’ bed was empty. He wasn’t sure whether he should be worried or not, he wasn’t in the bathroom either and hadn’t mentioned going anywhere. 

  
  


He was struck with the realisation that he  _ really  _ didn’t know anything about the boy, not in comparison to James and Peter at least. Despite his best efforts to befriend him, Remus hadn’t made it easy. The only times he ever opened his mouth was to make some offhand comment that would make them all laugh, or correct them in lessons when they were making mistakes. He wondered if Remus simply just didn’t like him - perhaps he’d done something wrong - but he quickly pushed that thought from his mind because he didn’t like the way it tugged at his chest. 

  
  


He decided to check the common room, thinking that it would be the most logical place to start. He most likely just couldn’t sleep and got sick of Peter’s snoring which nobody could exactly blame him for. Sirius was expecting to find him curled up next to the fire, reading something boring like  _ ‘one thousand magical herbs and fungi’ _ or  _ ‘a beginners guide to transfiguration’ _ , so he was slightly surprised to find the common room empty. 

  
  


Spurred on by both concern and curiosity, Sirius strode out into the corridors of Hogwarts, ignoring the fat lady’s protests. It was the first time he’d left the Gryffindor tower at night and there was something about it that he  _ loved _ . He knew that he wouldn’t have enjoyed it half as much if it was something that he was actually allowed to do, it was the adrenaline of it all. 

  
  


_ Merlin _ , he really wished there was some way of knowing where people were in this damn school. The corridors seemed like endless mazes designed purely to lead him astray but, with the help of some of the more friendly portraits, he managed to make something of a route through the castle.

  
  


Despite his frustrations and clear lack of direction, he had two places in mind: the library and the hospital wing.

  
  


As it turned out, the library was empty. Well, he assumed that much anyway, the doors were bolted shut about five times over and he didn’t doubt that magic was involved so any attempt to unlock it would be futile. 

  
  


He then turned his attention to finding the hospital wing. Remus had been in a particularly irritable state that day which, when compared to his usual unnervingly calm demeanour, was a little uncharacteristic. Sirius had come to the conclusion that he must’ve had a headache or something of the like which would be a justifiable reason to visit the infirmary if it had worsened during the night.

  
  


Unfortunately, he arrived to see ten pristine but empty hospital beds and no sign of a certain Remus Lupin. He sighed, retreating into the shadows of the hallway before Madam Pomfrey awoke and he’d have to fabricate some mysterious ailment. He thought about trying to search the rest of the castle but he was tired, it was late, and it was a goddamn miracle he’d made it this far without being caught. So, with a small amount of guilt and a mounting concern, he retired to his dormitory and over-thought everything until sleep eventually claimed him.

  
• ★ •

  
  


The boys slept in until at least eleven that day, having been exhausted from a taxing first week at school. Peter was rather annoyed that he had missed breakfast but was somewhat consoled by James’ reminder that lunch was only an hour away. Remus must’ve returned at some point during the early hours as, when Sirius awoke to the sound of Peter tripping over his own robes, the boy was in the bathroom brushing his teeth. 

  
  


Sirius looked, he  _ really  _ looked, at the small beads of sweat that glimmered in the sunlight, stretching over every inch of exposed skin, the grey pallor of his complexion, the purple shadows that lingered under his eyes and the way his head hung ever so slightly lower than usual. He looked tired, and not in a  _ ‘couldn’t get to sleep’ _ or a  _ ‘Peter snores like a bloody ogre’ _ sort of way. 

  
  


No, he looked completely and utterly  _ exhausted _ . 

  
  


The other two boys were busy arguing over the new Chudley Cannons signing - James thought he was horrendously overpriced, Peter was acting like he was God’s gift to quidditch - and both seemed none-the-wiser to their roommate's current state. Sirius decided it would probably be best if it were kept that way, after all Remus had made no attempt to enlighten any of them on the matter.

  
  


He wanted to ask him about last night; partly to know that he was okay, partly to find out where the  _ hell  _ he was because Sirius would be the first to admit that he was nosey. He waited until James and Peter had left the room - “I’ll catch you up, just want to grab a book off Remus and I think Peter will faint if I make him wait,” he’d said, to which Peter nodded enthusiastically - before he questioned him about his absence. The way Remus was looking at him made him slightly uncomfortable: cautious and curious all at once.

  
  


_ “Um,” _ now that they were alone, he didn’t know exactly what to say, “are you okay? You look a bit peaky, and well your bed was empty last night…”

  
  


Remus laughed, tension fading.

  
  


“Are you telling me I look half dead? Cheers mate,” he smirked, grabbing a burgundy knit jumper from the chest at the bottom of the bed, “don’t worry I know, couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk around the castle, thought I’d try and figure the place out.”

  
  


Sirius mulled over his explanation for a few moments then, after deciding he was satisfied with that answer, he shrugged, holding the door open for Remus, “now,” he said, “lets go and get some food, I’m bloody  _ starving.” _

  
  


Lunch was largely uneventful, though technically it was breakfast to the four of them. James and Peter fought over the last slice of toast, Sirius read a few articles in the Daily Prophet and Remus had remained largely silent, perusing through a chapter of their history of magic textbook. James had eventually won the battle for the bread but felt guilty and offered it up to Peter anyway, only for another plate of freshly buttered toast to appear not thirty seconds later. 

  
  


The three boys chatted amicably on their way to the lake that afternoon with Remus adding the odd witty comment when he deemed it necessary. Sirius had noticed that he had quite a dry sense of humour, half the time he didn’t even know if he was intending to be funny, the lines were always delivered with such a serious face. 

  
  


They stayed out there until the sun hung low in the sky, painting streaks of vermillion across the water’s surface where the light filtered haphazardly through the trees. It wasn’t that late, he always hated how early the sun seemed to set in the colder months though it would only worsen come winter. Then again, in some ways he was rather used to it, Grimmauld place was perpetually dingy. 

  
  


Peter, James and Sirius had been throwing a quaffle around between them for the past hour and Remus, who hadn’t wanted to play himself, had been tasked with retrieving the ball from the lake every ten minutes as he was the only one competent enough in using the summoning charm. 

  
  


_ “Remus watch out,” _ James yelled as the ball went flying towards him with considerable speed; Peter’s aim clearly left much to be desired. He needn’t have worried though as Remus caught it without even flinching. Sirius could’ve sworn it was already in his hand before he’d even looked up from the muggle book he was reading. 

  
  


_ “Jesus Christ,”  _ James gawked, eyes wide in shock, “you’ve got some reflexes on you,  _ sure  _ we can’t get you on a broom?”

  
  


“You’d make a great chaser,” Sirius added, equally impressed at the boy's stealth.

“Oh yeah,” Remus snorted, rolling his eyes, “I’m sure  _ every  _ quidditch team needs a player who can’t even get ten feet off the ground.”

  
  


To be fair, that was a point that both Sirius and James had failed to consider. He supposed flying was relatively important in the grand scheme of things where quidditch was concerned. 

  
  


James' eyes lit up and the look on Remus’ face made it painfully apparent he’d just come to the realisation that he’d said entirely the wrong thing. Sirius had to stop himself from laughing but he was only partially successful, letting out an indignant snort.

  
  


Remus scowled at him; Sirius laughed harder.

_“Absolutely not,”_ he turned to address James, “the reason I don’t get ten feet off the ground is because I _don't_ _want_ to get ten feet off the ground.” 

  
  


James was about to respond - most likely with some impassioned speech about why quidditch is  _ so much more _ than just a sport - when he was promptly cut off by a brief but shrill shriek on Sirius’ part. He would have liked to have said it was more of a dignified yell but everyone who was there that afternoon would disagree. Sirius would argue that it was quite a natural response to being blasted in the foot with a well-aimed stinging jinx from none other than Severus Snape. 

  
  


A brief flash of white had cut through the air, alarmingly close to Peter’s face, before hitting Sirius in the foot, sending him tumbling to the ground with a sharp screech. He regained his balance quickly, ignoring the pain that seared his ankle, and let out a string of words that would have sent his mother to an early grave. 

  
  


Remus dived into action without hesitation, book discarded and wand in hand. Sirius was a split second behind him, trying to recall every hex he’d ever heard one of his cousins mention at those godawful meetings they insisted on having. His ankle felt like it had been dunked in a litre of ashwinder venom and was swelling by the second, but pain wasn’t something he was unfamiliar with so it was an inconvenience if anything. Peter remained glued to the spot, looking rather alarmed at how the situation was unravelling. 

  
  


There were only two Slytherins in sight - Snape and a rather brutish looking boy who he believed to be Maverick Mulciber - and Sirius smugly thought that he should've brought more backup if he had any intention of getting out of this unscathed. He would gladly bet five galleons, ten chocolate frogs and his entire collection of vintage quidditch annuals that they didn’t even know half the hexes he had in his arsenal. That was one of the few benefits of being a pureblood, the Rosiers were prolific in their creation of new curses and hexes. Not that Sirius had ever tried any of them though, they all sounded a touch barbaric for his liking, but Snape didn’t need to know that.

  
  


Sirius and Remus advanced on the Slytherins, closing in on them like wolves tracking their prey. Except their prey weren’t about to run for the hills, they were standing firm with ill-deserved confidence and Sirius  _ swore  _ he saw a hint of excitement in Remus’ eyes. 

  
  


James, on the other hand, apparently had other ideas. Ideas which, had they had the liberty of time in this situation, Sirius would have liked to have been consulted on because he personally wasn’t on board with this approach. 

  
  


“No,  _ no _ ,” James jumped between both pairs, waving his hands like a useless mime, “this isn’t the way to do this, let's be civil, solve it like men.”

  
  


He wasn’t aware of how amusing that statement was, coming from an eleven year old.

  
  


“Um James,” Sirius spoke in a loud whisper, wand still raised, “I think the old human shield trick only works if  _ neither  _ side wants to hex you and, I mean, considering that is definitely  _ not  _ the case here, you’re practically offering yourself up as target practice.”

  
  


“Yeah but,” he still held his hands up in surrender, “I’m unarmed, they can’t hex me, it’s a matter of honour or something.” 

  
  


“Do  _ they  _ look honourable to you?”

  
  


James looked back over to where Snape and Mulciber were standing, sneering at the four Gryffindors like they  _ actually  _ believed they had the upper hand in this situation. Sirius would have found it almost laughable if he wasn’t a little preoccupied in making sure that none of them got hexed to Hogsmeade and back.

  
  


James cocked his head to the side briefly with a slight grimace, “fair point actually.”

  
  


Remus was still in a perfect attack stance and Sirius found himself wondering where he learnt it, he definitely knew a thing or two about dueling but they’d only been there a week. His body was perfectly still, one foot in front of the other and arm outstretched, while his eyes hadn’t left his target for even a second.

  
  


“What do I do now?” James whispered, having become increasingly aware of the fact he’d put himself in a less than desirable position.

  
  


“We  _ can  _ hear you, you know,” Snape shouted and the look of sheer annoyance on his face made Sirius positively gleeful. 

  
  


“Well then you can hear that we’re trying to have a conversation here,” Sirius’ tone was dripping with sarcasm as he shouted over his friend’s shoulder to the pair, “did your mother never tell you it was rude to interrupt, Snivellus?” 

  
  


He turned back to address James again when Snape’s patience had finally hit zero - honestly, he was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner - and the Slyherin stepped forward shouting,  _ “STUPEFY _ ,” in their general direction and a jet of pale blue light erupted from the tip of his wand.

  
  


Both boys dived into action. 

  
  


Sirius lunged towards James, pulling him out of the firing line, while Remus yelled, “ _ PROTEGO _ ,” and Snape’s charm ricocheted across the lake like a skimming stone. They tumbled to the ground in a mess of limbs, rolling a few metres to the water’s edge, and Peter scurried over to help them up. Remus retaliated without a second thought, or probably a first thought for that matter, sending a jinx hurtling through the air. 

  
  


Sirius thought it must’ve been a miracle that it had missed but, on reflection, he realised it hadn’t missed at all. In fact, it had gone exactly where Remus had intended it to: close enough to Snape’s face to scare him, but far enough away to avoid leaving anything incriminating.

  
  


“Wait,  _ WAIT _ ,” James yelled again, grabbing his wand as he scrambled to his feet, “you got what you wanted right, you jinxed Sirius, you win,  _ congratulations _ ,” he added a rather sarcastic clap for good measure, “now what's the point in overdoing it and getting us  _ all  _ detention?”

  
  


Sirius really didn’t know what James was trying to achieve with this whole approach.

  
  


Snape stopped in his tracks, considering his words. Mulciber was looking increasingly frustrated, evidently in favour of a fight. It was becoming quite clear to Sirius that Mulciber was most certainly the brawn of this operation, he was beginning to wonder if there was a single brain cell left up there actually.

  
  


“It’s only worthwhile if you don’t get caught,” James shrugged, twirling his wand around his fingers so that it was clearly visible, “but, I mean, if you  _ insist… _ ”

  
  


“No,” Snape said abruptly, lowering his wand, and Mulciber looked at him like he was out of his damn mind, “you’re right,  _ we  _ won,” the cocky grin that spread across his face made Sirius’ blood boil, “hope your ankle gets better soon Black.”

  
  


And with one final smirk, partially hidden by the greasy locks of hair that framed his face, Snape turned on his heel and strode back towards the castle with a rather disgruntled looking mulciber in tow. The four boys remained silent for the better part of a minute while they all processed the events of the last ten minutes.

  
  


“You should have let me hex him,” Remus eventually broke the silence, “he deserved it.”

  
  


“Not to mention the fact that they  _ actually  _ think they have the upper hand,” Sirius chided, but his tone was clearly humorous, “which I mean they kind of do now, cheers mate.”

  
  


Sirius wasn’t really all that annoyed at him and James knew it, he was just in the mood to complain. Though, in all honesty, he did wish that Remus had managed to get at least some form of jinx in before James had intervened, it would have been quite entertaining.

  
  


His foot was still quite painful, maybe he’d make a fuss about it later.

  
  


“And to think that I wasn’t even the one who blew up his cauldron, _ I’m innocent _ , a civilian casualty,” he grabbed Remus’ shoulder, placing his other hand flat to his own chest, “how does it feel to know someone’s taken a bullet for you?”

  
  


Remus merely shrugged him with a roll of his eyes, “would’ve rather taken the hit myself if I’d known this is how you’re going to carry on about it.”

  
  


Sirius snorted.

  
  


“And they’re going to pay alright, I’ll make sure of it,” James finally said the words they’d all been wanting to hear, a sly grin working its way across his face, “I just don't want every teacher in the school to know we’re the ones who did it or I’ll have  _ no  _ chance of getting on the quidditch team next year.”

  
  


“James Fleamont Potter you  _ devil _ .”

  
  


“Tact lads,” James slung his arms around Sirius and Peter’s shoulders simultaneously, “it’s  _ all  _ about tact.”

  
  
“Well that’s unfortunate,” Remus deadpanned, “because you three have  _ absolutely none _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
> 
> Also, to clarify with the mention of his scars and wondering how many the others had. When I was writing it I came to the sad realisation that, since he probably never socialised with anyone outside his family or The Sacred Twenty Eight, he probably just saw that as something normal at this age, he wouldn't have known that this wasn't how most parents treat their children which breaks my heart.


	5. A Dish Best Served Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus whispered, at last, the word that would set the four boys on a path to numerous detentions, mountains of mischief and a whole load of fun throughout their time at Hogwarts.

* * *

_**A D I S H B E S T S E R V E D C O L D** _

* * *

“There are always casualties in war,” James replied, scribbling furiously on the piece of parchment he’d laid out on his bed. Peter balked, looking rather displeased with his answer which wasn’t ideal since it had taken him a while to warm to the idea in the first place. Sirius thought James’ response was a little harsh since Peter had only asked what would happen if one of them got caught. 

  
  


“But don’t worry,” when Peter remained silent, James continued, eyes still glued to the paper, “if you go down, so do all of us, we do this together.”

  
  


“Yeah,” Sirius agreed, thrusting his fist into the air, “one for all and all for one and all that.”

  
  


“Well that seems logical,” Remus muttered sardonically.

  
  


“It’s  _ chivalrous _ .”

  
  


It had been three weeks since the incident at the black lake and two weeks since Sirius’ ankle had finally returned to its normal size which is largely because he refused to go to the hospital wing despite his friend’s protests. He’d milked his injury the whole time; James and Peter were all too happy to indulge his requests and every time Remus told him to  _ ‘sod off’ _ he politely reminded him that he was indebted. 

  
  


They’d spent most of their evenings preparing a detailed plan of attack - notes, diagrams, research, you name it. James and Sirius were wildly optimistic about the whole ordeal, Remus was largely indifferent to the matter and he suspected Peter was hoping that the entire plan would foil at the last minute. 

  
  


Despite their dedication to the cause, it was actually Remus who drew up a functioning game plan. Though it could also be attributed to a spritely Hufflepuff called Dorcas Meadowes who proved to be the inspiration for their scheme upon accidentally making the window in the charms classroom disappear over a fortnight ago. 

  
  
  
  
  


Peter picked up a cupcake - he’d brought a handful back up to the dorm after lunch - and took a large bite, crumbles tumbling onto his lap, “I found out the Slytherin password so we won’t have to wait for anyone to go through,” he said, picking up a few rogue hundreds-and-thousands and throwing them into his mouth. 

  
  


James grinned, offering up a genuine, “nice work mate,” and Peter smiled, clearly pleased with his own intuitiveness. Sirius had noticed over the past month that Peter, certainly the shy soul of the group, thrived off other’s appraisal. His eyes lit up at every pat on the back James gave him, every time he got something right in class, every  _ ‘thanks’ _ , every  _ ‘good job’ _ , every  _ ‘well done’ _ . So Sirius found himself praising him for the most mundane of things - ‘that’s a cool drawing’, it was a stickman, for the record - which he knew was excessive, but it seemed to make Peter smile so he did it anyway. 

  
  


“ _ Brilliant _ ,” he said enthusiastically, because this time the praise really was warranted, “how’d you figure it out?”

  
  


“Pretended I got lost on my way to potions,” he said matter-of-factly, he was trying to play it off as nothing but Sirius could tell he was really pleased with himself, “headed off towards their common room and heard someone say the password -  _ hydrus _ .” 

  
  


“Good on you Pete, you’ve just saved us a  _ load  _ of time.”

  
  


He smiled through a mouthful of food, offering up another cake to Sirius who took it gladly, licking the icing off the top which earned him an eye roll from Remus. James - who’d already eaten two - turned it down, having never quite recovered from the trauma of the boat ride a month back.

  
  


Sirius was meant to be making some form of notes; James had decided to run the whole revenge thing like a military operation, Sirius was personally more in favour of going in all guns blazing and hoping for the best but he supposed a bit of proper planning never hurt the situation. He still wasn’t taking notes though, unless he counted the small winding snake he’d etched into the surface of his parchment; he often doodled when he was bored.

  
  


So the plan was - well, the plan was ludicrous, that’s what it was. James had said they needed to  _ ‘go big or go home’ _ on their first mission - Peter’s eyes widened at the word  _ ‘first’  _ and Remus’ rolled at the word  _ ‘mission’  _ \- and Sirius  _ obviously  _ agreed.

  
  


Once they’d walked back from the lake last month, or limped in the case of Sirius and his football sized ankle, they quickly set about plotting the untimely demise of more than one Slytherin. None of them knew what the Slytherin common room looked like first hand, but Sirius had heard numerous stories and had seen a fair few photos in his cousin Andromeda’s scrapbooks. He told them about the marble columns and the garish snakes and the towering glass windows that looked out onto the bottom of the lake and  _ that’s  _ when Remus reminded them of the Dorcas Meadowes incident and James’ face lit up like he’d just won the lottery. 

  
  


“We make the windows disappear,” Sirius said. The words came out slowly, unsure almost, as a plan began to formulate in his mind. He repeated the statement, this time with conviction, _ “we make the windows disappear.” _

  
  


Remus, who had clearly had the same idea, was smirking away at the other side of the room.

  
  


“ _ You want to drown them _ ,” Peter replied, looking suitably horrified. 

  
  


“Temporarily,” James added.

  
  


“ _ Temporarily _ drown them?”

  
  


By that point it would have been fair to assume that Peter thought they were all sadists.

  
  


“Temporarily  _ remove the windows _ ,” Remus corrected, looking particularly thoughtful, “windows that size, that amount of water,” he paused for a moment to think, “a couple seconds should do the job.”

  
  


“Just enough to soak the common room, without causing any  _ real  _ damage.”

  
  


“Oh this is  _ good _ .”

  
  


James looked positively gleeful.

  
  


As it turned out, vanishing and reconjuring was fifth year magic and fifth year magic was  _ hard _ . But it also turned out that the Lupins most certainly didn’t raise a quitter because Remus had spent every goddamn day in the library the last three weeks trying to figure it out. He spent so much time there, that Sirius found himself wondering if he was actually trying to avoid them. He never seemed that pleased when Sirius came by to try and help him, but in Remus’ defence that did normally just mean that he talked at him without a breath until he was finally told to shut up.

  
  


It was twenty-three minutes past nine last Tuesday evening when Remus burst into the dorm, a rare smile on his face, and proudly proclaimed that he had successfully made something vanish and reappear. It was an apple, which wasn’t exactly a series of thirty-foot windows, but it was a start. 

  
  


Two days later it was banana, then a quill, then Sirius’ history of magic textbook - which didn’t actually reappear but he was secretly quite pleased about that - then a library desk, Peter’s bed, two trees on the edge of the forbidden forest and  _ finally  _ all the windows on the fourth floor east corridor. 

  
  


Seven times. 

  
  


Only then did Remus decide he was ready.

  
  


“Surely there’s some sort of protective barrier or something,” Remus said the following afternoon over lunch, quite out of the blue, “like normal windows wouldn’t be able to hold all that water themselves.”

  
  


James hummed through a mouthful of food, indicating that he had something to say on the matter and everyone turned to await an answer, “when I was reading that Hogwarts book -” 

  
  


_ “- Hogwarts, A History -” _

  
  


_ “- swot,” _ James shot back and Sirius shoved him playfully in retaliation, “anyways, it just says the charms are there to reinforce the glass, like strengthening charms, not like some protective barrier or anything.”

  
  


“So if the charms were cast on the windows itself,” Remus voiced his train of thought, nodding along to himself as he processed the information, “then they should disappear and reappear with our charms, basic laws of magic.”

  
  


“Precisely.” Sirius stated, before turning back to James, “now what I  _ actually  _ want to know is when the hell did you read the textbook,” he paused, thinking, “or  _ any  _ book for that matter, because you certainly hadn’t read it when we needed it for history of magic.”

  
  


“It was  _ optional  _ reading,” he brushed it off with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders as he picked a bit of lettuce out of his sandwich, “and besides I thought it would be useful for the prank.”

  
  


“Oh so getting good marks in history isn’t a good enough reason to read it,” Remus laughed, shaking his head, “but drowning the Slytherins  _ is _ ?”

  
  


_ “You’re drowning the Slytherins,” _ the voice didn’t belong to any of them, it was too high pitched, distinctly feminine, and Sirius couldn’t decide if it was posed as more of a question or a statement, “I want in.”

  
  


“Unfortunately not,” Remus said smoothly, his whole demeanour changed, brushing off all suspicion like it was nothing, “but after potions this morning I’d pay good money to see that.”

  
  


Unfortunately, at the same time as Remus confidently delivered a rather inconspicuous answer, James decided to shout, “NO,” which was only aided by Peter’s squeak of,  _ “not us.” _

  
  


Sirius just raised an eyebrow.

  
  


Remus turned round, with a tremendous sigh, and stared them down with clear disappointment in his eyes.

  
  


“Well  _ that  _ wasn’t suspicious,” she deadpanned.

  
  


The girl had honey-blonde hair that fell in waves to the base of her neck, and a glorious hint of mischief in her eyes. She was called Marlene Mckinnon and Sirius only knew that because her ginger tomcat had taken a severe dislike to him in the last few weeks which she had thought to be highly amusing. 

  
  


“Come on Marls, they have  _ carrot cake, _ ” a sing-song voice, which Sirius most certainly recognised, sounded from a few metres away, floating down the table among the other students' conversations. Marlene fixed them a stare that quite clearly said  _ ‘this isn’t over _ ’ and waved them goodbye, leaving to join her friend - or get some cake, Sirius wasn't sure what the main incentive was.

  
  


Sirius leaned right back, hanging onto the edge of the table to stop him from falling, _ “HEY RED,” _ he yelled, and the girl in question turned around. 

  
  


He smiled widely; she scowled.

  
  


As it turned out, Lily Evans had also taken a severe dislike to him in the last few weeks but Sirius thought that was at least  _ partially  _ warranted after the whole potions incident. The cat, however, could get stuffed for all he cared because he’d been nothing but kind to it - he even offered it some chocolate when they first met.

  
  


He later found out, unsurprisingly from Remus, that chocolate is in fact quite poisonous to cats but he was pretty certain the cat didn’t know that so it could have at least shown a little gratitude at the time.

  
  
• ★ •

  
  
  


Sunday the third of October arrived with a distinct chill in the air, the smell of fresh coffee at breakfast and three long-awaited words from James Potter:  _ “today is the day.” _

  
  


They all found themselves preparing for the evening in different ways.

  
  


Remus lay on top of his bed, practicing wand motions as the hours passed; Peter sat nervously in the corner of the room, biting his nails as he worked through his overdue charms essay, while James and Sirius spent the afternoon placing increasingly large bets on which Slytherin would be the first to try and murder them. 

  
  


Sirius said it would be his cousin Narcissa; James was still convinced that nobody would find out. 

  
  


They had made the executive decision to skip dinner. Three of the boys had at least, Peter wasn’t very happy about that development but was quickly brought round by the stash of food Sirius and James revealed they had stolen during lunch.

  
  


They were waiting around for eight o’clock, when everyone would have returned from dinner but it was still too early for people to retire to their bed. James made some claim about ‘maximum impact’ and Sirius decided he was quite fond of that idea. He also hoped most of the pureblood lot would be down there at the time, especially that Malfoy prat who his cousin had been gushing over at every Black family dinner. Sirius would rejoice in wiping away that smug grin that seemed to be permanently plastered to his face.

  
  


He picked lazily at the slightly stale bread bun in his hands as they did one final run-through of the plan, going through each stage in detail. Sirius simply nodded along, not adding anything of real importance, as he’d heard it at least thirty times before and once was quite frankly enough for him. He was sick of talking about the whole thing, he wanted to do it,  _ now _ . 

  
  


The anticipation was killing him. 

  
  


If he’d had his own way, they would have retaliated weeks ago. They also would have almost certainly been caught, ended up with a month’s worth of detention  _ and  _ banished all hopes of joining the quidditch team next year. Maybe James was right; it didn’t change the fact that Sirius was bored out of his mind though.

  
  


All that changed, however, when James pulled a thick silken robe from the chest at the foot of his bed. He didn’t think much of it at first, in fact he thought it was bloody awful, a great ugly thing that was patterned like a pair of nineteen-thirties curtains. Then James threw it around his shoulders and Sirius’ jaw nearly hit the floorboards because,  _ Merlin _ , the only thing left of the boy was his slightly oversized head, bobbing in midair like the candles in the Great Hall. 

  
  


_ “Godric, is that -” _

  
  


_ “No, it can’t -” _

  
  


Even Remus looked impressed.

  
  


_ “Jesus Christ,” _ Sirius leaned forward, reaching out to let his fingers slide across the silky material, “my family would sell me on the black market in a heartbeat for one these,” he gawked at the cloak, “Potter you lucky bastard.”

  
  


“I know,” he laughed, twirling around as if to show it off, irrespective of the fact that the whole point is that there wasn’t anything to see, “been in the family for decades apparently, dad’ll kill me if I lose it.”

  
  


Sirius couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, or what he wasn’t if he was being entirely correct,  _ “can I -” _

  
  


He asked tentatively, wondering if James would actually let him  _ anywhere near _ it because he thought he’d have more chance of seeing his father crack a brief smile than ever laying eyes on an invisibility cloak and he hadn’t witnessed the former yet.

  
  


“Sure,” he shrugged, throwing it over himself, and Sirius nearly fainted with excitement as he pulled the cloak over his head, saying, “how do I look,” as he struck an embarrassing pose that no one was able to see anyways. 

  
  


“Good,” James feigned a pensive look, stroking an imaginary beard with two fingers, “but there’s something missing though.”

  
  


Peter and Sirius laughed at the stupid joke - even Remus was smiling - as he pulled the cloak back over his head, messing up his curls in the process. 

  
  


It was later that night, just after eight, and the boys were all uncomfortably stuffed under one invisibility cloak, standing outside the Slytherin common room practically shaking with anticipation.

  
  


“Right, three seconds and three seconds  _ only _ ,” James whispered and Remus nodded, readying himself for the task ahead. Sirius squared himself for the impending chaos, barely daring to breathe.

  
  


_ “Hydrus,” _ Peter said because he’d decided he wanted a part in the prank and James was all too happy to let him do this since  _ he did  _ figure out the password in the first place. The bricks in the wall began to rearrange themselves - slowly at first and then with some speed - revealing a large room that was all together quite different from the Gryffindor common room. They remained outside the entrance, they had a good rough view of everything from there and didn’t want to carry the risks that came with going inside.

  
  


Remus whispered, at last, the word that would set the four boys on a path to numerous detentions, mountains of mischief and a whole load of fun throughout their time at Hogwarts.

  
  


_ “Evanesco.” _

  
  


It was only then, as there was no turning back, that he realised the enormity of what they had done. 

  
  


_ One. _

  
  


For a split second, the water almost seemed almost to hang there, perfectly motionless save for the forest of reeds that continued to sway gently in its depths. Their breaths hitched, their hearts stopped - it was surreal.

  
  


Then, all hell broke loose.

  
  


Like a wave breaking in a storm, a great column of water tumbled from the bottom of the lake where it proudly stood moments ago. 

  
  


_ Two. _

  
  


There were shouts, screams, wails and a rather underwhelming  _ ‘oh fuck’ _ from one of the seventh years. No-one had the time to move, hell to  _ even  _ comprehend what was happening, before half the contents of the Black Lake deposited itself on top of them. 

  
  


_ Three. _

  
  


Remus shouted the incantation, unheard amongst the chaos, and the torrent of water stopped abruptly. It wasn’t what they would call a perfect attempt, nor would anyone else for that matter. A sizable stream of water still seeped from the edges of the re-conjured windows where glass met stone, but it would have to do. Once the water had settled, it was only perhaps a foot high, trapped within the common room by the confines of the stone steps that lead up to the entrance where the four boys stood in awe of their work. 

  
  


There was an almighty shriek and Sirius’ heart soared because he knew from the shrill pitch and entitled anger that it belonged to none other than his cousin Narcissa. She was being consoled by an equally infuriated Malfoy while her older sister Andromeda - the only family member Sirius wasn’t actually ashamed to be related to - stood laughing at them both from the other side of the room, “lighten up Cissy, it’s just a bit of water.” 

  
  


_ And mud, and pondweed, and god knows what else for that matter _ , Sirius thought and he  _ wished  _ he could have stayed to see Narcissa’s reply because he was sure it would be comedic gold.

  
  


Regardless, they didn’t have time to hang about.

  
  


Their ten seconds were nearly up and people had started running towards the entrance like it was their only lifeline. If the boys stayed any longer, the escaping students would have barged straight into them and they’d be up to their neck in detention for the rest of the year. 

  
  


So, with common sense  _ finally  _ getting the better of them, they made a hasty retreat.

  
  


Well, as hasty as four boys packed together under a far-too-small cloak could hope to be. Which was apparently not very, but it was enough to get them out of there in time. And, if a few students heard laughter in an empty corridor that afternoon, they would never know the reason why. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I've got half of the next one done and you'll get to see a bit more of a familiar face. 
> 
> Also I'm from the UK so half the time I don't even know what's British slang or not since it's just normal to me ahah but I have a feeling 'swot' is and in the context I've used it, it just means someone who works really hard in school but it's used in a negative way, like a bit of an insult.


End file.
